


i promised you a heart you promised to keep

by elbe



Series: A Werewolf in Langford [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, F/M, M/M, Rough Sex, Werewolf!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elbe/pseuds/elbe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen's in his blood, whether he likes it or not. You can't ignore biology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i promised you a heart you promised to keep

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt was: "Jensen is a jealous!werewolf." This story was also heavily influenced by "Blood & Chocolate" (the book, not the shitty film) by Annette Curtis Klause and "Bitten" by Kelley Armstrong.

  


Jensen doesn't leave Langford for two months. He stays, hangs around, and sticks his nose into business that isn't his. What's worse is he visits the bookstore Jared works at and sits. Reads. Puts his fucking hands all over the fucking books so that, for hours after he leaves with that insufferable smirk on his _goddamnedinsufferablefucking_ face, Jared can smell him. It's his faint aftershave, the apple he ate on the way over, the latte he drank this morning from the coffee shop down the block. It's horrible to know he's just around the corner, thumbing the pages of books Jared himself put on the shelves. Even the relief he feels when Jensen leaves is tainted, and it's driving Jared mad. 

Misha, his boss, thinks it's hilarious. When Jensen first introduced himself to the shorter man, Misha glanced across the room to Jared stocking the Young Fiction section, and laughed out loud because, as he puts it, this turn of events explains _so much_ about Jared. Like the guy's a fucking jigsaw and Misha and the rest of the gang have to figure him out, put the pieces in place. And yeah, he's more than tight-lipped about this shit. About his past. As Jared sees it, it's none of their damn business. But, as Genevieve and Chad and Adrienne and the rest of them point out, he's their friend. That makes it their business.

Nosy friends aside, Jared's still trying to figure out where he and Jensen stand. By themselves, away from all the opinions of people who really don't matter once the bedroom door is closed. The thick wood of Jared's door (because it's not _theirs_ , just his right now) drowns out everyone that wants them together, wants them apart. It's just Jared. It's just Jensen. Nothing else. Nothing more. Just two men trying to figure out where the chips have fallen. 

They spend many nights talking. Just sitting on opposite ends of Jared's more-than-spacious king-sized bed, talking. Speaking. Airing all the dirty laundry that mucked everything up in the first place; the skeletons, the secrets, the regrets, the grudges.

They fuck. A lot. It's like a match has been lit, reigniting the fizzled fuse between them. Whether it's the close proximity after so much time apart, or the constant attraction neither has forgotten. How could they? Jared tried his damnedest to bury it, send it away on down the river, and forget anything or anyone remotely having to do with Jensen Ackles or his past with him. But as soon as Jensen steps into a room, the tiny hairs on his arms stand on end, and it's like he's been electrocuted. He can't help but reach out and touch, stroke, run the sensitive pads of his fingers over Jensen's, fold himself to the older man and never let go. 

It's instinct, he's come to realize. Whether it comes with the territory of what Jensen made him, or whether it goes further back to their first meeting at that little dive bar where Jensen's friends were performing in Austin...Jared doesn't know when he first came to need Jensen, want him, desire his very presence. It dulled with distance. Nearly downright disappeared. But it's back with Jensen's reappearance. Flared to life like he's been set on fire with that fucking match and it's like he's waiting to explode all over again.

He's the goddamned volcano science project, and Jensen just poured baking soda down his throat.

* * *

Jensen brings up going back to Texas during the fifth month. He's obviously been sitting on it, stewing it around his noggin, waiting for the perfect time. Jared doesn't know whether to be angry that Jensen's handled him so well, or pleased that he's being patient enough for Jared to make up his own mind. It's progress, and Jared is thankful for it. 

When Jared does decide to follow his tracks back to Texas, back home, he tells Jensen over a pot of coffee. Fresh sunlight streams in through the window of his one-bedroom apartment and he's frying bacon on the stove. They're both wearing minimal amounts of clothing; when two people spend _that kind_ of night together, clothing is more of a comfort concern rather than a modesty issue. So, clad only in boxers and Jared's ratty t-shirt (on Jensen), Jared tells him he's accepting the offer. 

Jensen simply nods, grins into his coffee mug, and goes to pack his things from the bathroom.

* * *

That's how he ends up back in Dallas.

* * *

Before, when staying at the manor, Jared stayed in Jensen's room. The relationship went from separate homes to same room and bed lightning fast, and before he knew it, Jared had a drawer and a side of the closet and a towel and a space on the sink for his toothbrush. He slept on the right side of the bed. He did the laundry, but Jensen folded it and put it away. They dated. They fell in love. Jared routinely caught himself planning out their lives together like a fourteen-year-old girl playing "Life". 

Then, Jensen transformed into a wolf, bit Jared, and revealed his little family secret to a not-very-receptive Jared. It didn't help that, with the next full moon, Jared's body realigned itself, spontaneously sprouted fur, and walked on four legs. 

Obviously, things changed.

He goes to Langford, hides out for months until Jensen tracks him down and forces himself back into Jared's life. 

Now, he's back in Dallas again. He's back to staying in Jensen's house (though he now occupies an empty room at the other side of the manor), and he can feel things slowly returning to normal. 

Well, whatever qualified as normal before becoming a werewolf.

* * *

He's been staring at the same crack in his ceiling for the past twenty minutes. Without the pressing need to get up and ready himself for work, Jared doesn't have the necessary motivation to jump out of bed, and decides to have a brief lie in. The bed is comfortable, the room is warm, and it's pretty damn satisfying to just sit here and soak up his free time.

However, the bold and broad scent of coffee won't let him rest. It climbs the staircase and winds its way under the door until his room is filled to the brim with the hearty roast. It's still early, but he knows half the house will soon be up and about, so he better get his lazy, stomach-grumbling ass out of bed before they beat him to the breakfast. 

The hardwood floor is fucking freezing beneath the soles of his bare feet. Being naked doesn't help either. Quickly, he pulls on a fresh pair of boxers, some old jeans turned white at the stress points, and a Texas A&M hooded sweatshirt from his brother's college days. Sticking his feet in his ratty Converses, he's ready for breakfast and to face the people he once called family.

[The House at Black Tree](http://www.flickr.com/photos/fishin_rod/2476636663/), earning its name from the ring of dead oaks at the edge of the property, is a great stone manor about thirty minutes from the outskirts of Dallas proper. It's surrounded by a hundred acres of thick forest, perfect for the occasional run through the brush or hunt after the herds of deer that call this particular thicket their home. The manor itself is old, hundreds of years old, and has always belonged to Jensen's pack one way or another. Thick gray rock and dark red brick provide the foundation and sturdy walls where two granite columns support a rather intimidating entrance. It's all surrounded by an eight-foot-tall wall of the same materials, built to keep unwanted visitors out and away from the Pack's business. 

Within, the foreboding landmark is transformed from a house to home. At any given time, the manor is base to anywhere from ten to thirty Pack members. Jensen, as Alpha, lives here. Jeffrey and his wife, Mary-Louise, take up most of the third floor with their small brood of three. The way Jared hears it these days, it's about to become four with their next babe on the way. He'll have to stop by the Hallmark nearby and get them a card.

Jared descends the far staircase to the main floor of the house where the coffee smell near suffocates him and the crackle of bacon is music to his ears. He thinks about holding back, digging something to eat out of the pantry in between meal times when the kitchen is deserted and he can hold onto his self-imposed solitude just a little while longer. But he shouldn't be hiding, he tells himself, because he did nothing wrong. So Jared pushes through the swinging door, and greets his old friends for the first time in what seems like forever.

So far, there's only three people occupying the big kitchen. 

Mary-Louise has piled her long dark curls atop her head, revealing the delicate nape of her neck and the curling lines of the intricate tattoo stretched across her left shoulder blade. She turns her head round, wraps a supportive hand round her belly, and brings Jared down for a big hug. 

"You're back!" she exclaims as she mumbles into his neck. They pull apart and Mary-Louise lays a gentle, delicate hand on Jared's cheek, runs her thumb across the thin bone of his cheek, and smiles. "Welcome home, sweetie." 

He smiles and takes a seat at the kitchen's large island, opposite her husband, Jeff, and some guy who introduces himself as Aldis. From his time before here, Jared grew used to the constant visitors coming and going. Now, he knows the truth behind Jensen's random houseguests. The Manor serves as a halfway house to werewolves on the move, and there are usually more than one stranger taking up space at the breakfast table in the mornings. Before Jensen bit him, Jared would simply assume these passersby were friends of Jensen, and that's it. While they _are_ Jensen's friends, friends he considers family, the natural supplication and homage they pay to the Alpha werewolf in their midst used to go right over his head. 

Breakfast goes on without a hitch. Aldis turns out to be a pretty cool guy with plenty of stories and a wicked sense of humor. Jared can't help but watch Jeff and Mary-Louise sidle up next to one another, his arm resting casually atop the back of her chair, fingers trailing over the soft skin of her exposed shoulder. When she laughs, she looks happy, and Jared's glad because if anybody deserves it, she does. 

Throughout the meal, something is missing. It takes Jared an unpleasant moment to realize it's Jensen; he misses Jensen. 

Jared sips his coffee, eats his bacon. Doesn't think about it.

* * *

He doesn't see Jensen for a week and a half. Jared doesn't know where the Alpha disappeared to and it's not like Jensen left him a note on his pillow or anything. He practically drags him back to Texas after forcing himself back into Jared's life, the least the guy can do is stick around. 

So Jared busies himself with getting to know his new housemates. 

He loves spending time with Mary-Louise, just talking about the little one she's expecting in the next two months or so. They catch up and she laughs when he tells her about Misha and the gang back in Langford. When he retells the story of the night Jensen found him (leaving out the naked details), she pats his hand and kisses him on the cheek before pouring more lemonade. 

He plays basketball in the yard with Aldis, and gets to know the guy's personality as well as his wicked jump shot. The guy smears him up and down the court, which is usually hard to do since Jared's so tall and usually very athletic (of course, Aldis is taller and even _more_ athletic). They crack each other up, and discover more than a couple of similar likes they're make plans to explore (apparently, Aldis has a huge collection of illegal downloads Jared _has got to_ browse). 

There are a few faces that come and go; he meets Alona, a feisty young thing with long blond hair and an affinity for country music. She's got a nice voice on her, and sometimes, she sits in her room with the window open, and Jared can make out the faint chords of her acoustic riding the air. He likes Chad well enough, but he doesn't understand the guy half the time (and the other half, he's as high as a fucking kite, so it's doubly difficult to make out what he's saying). Samantha is gorgeous; she used to be part of the Northern Pack up towards Vancouver and the Canadian-US border, but her Alpha died and what's a poor girl to do? She migrated down south, and the Southern Pack welcomed her with open arms. She looks like she could be Alona's mother (no relation), but where Alona is feisty and quick to fire, Samantha is more laid back with an undercurrent of quiet steel. Jared wouldn't want to get on her bad side. 

The two weeks (so far) he's there, he meets several new faces that come and go; another Samantha who slaps him on the ass and declares it "gold", an Alexis with baby-blue eyes and a pout too good to be bad, a Scott who's quick to laugh and kick back, that girl Danneel who keeps shooting Jared dirty looks whenever she comes out of her self-imposed exile in a back room, and a few people he never really introduces himself to. They all go out to dinner, or split off into preordained groups. The younger girls tend to hang with each other (Katie and Danneel seem inseparable, while Alexis maintains a silent companionship amongst the older women), and Alona tends to drift to the men's side of things when the time comes to break off. She can belch with the best of them, and she quickly becomes one of Jared's favorite people in the Manor.

But, even as he finds he kind of fits in with these people (how loosely should he define 'people'?), he can't help but keep Jensen at the forefront of his mind. He still hasn't laid eyes on the guy since they shared a very quiet and awkward taxi ride between the airport and the Manor, and he's beginning to think Jensen's pulled a Jared and taken off. 

When he asks Jeff, casually slipping it into conversation as Mary-Louise ropes them into bringing in the groceries, the Alpha's second-in-command grins and sets the bags on the counter. He glances around for his wife, snags a couple of beers from the fridge, and gestures towards the back door. The two men slip out and find a quiet space on the big wraparound porch where they can talk. Jared takes a seat on the porch swing, and Jeff parks it on the railing, facing the younger man.

"Jensen had some business to take care of in New Mexico," Jeff explains, taking a swig from his beer. "The Alpha down there's been having trouble with his subordinates, and Jensen stepped in to help. He'll be back for the _ceili_ tonight." 

Jared nods and lets the cold brew soothe the knot in his throat. That's right, the _ceili_. He'd practically forgotten.

Jeff pauses for a second, then asks, "Don't get me wrong, love having you back and all. It's been a blast, and Mary-Louise hasn't stopped chatting my ear off 'bout it, she's so excited. But why _did_ you come back?" 

"What?" 

"Dude, you were long gone. You made it plenty clear you didn't want to be here."

"Not like I had a choice." 

Jeff rolls his eyes. "Bullshit. There's always a choice." Another drink and he dangles the bottle between his fingers as he stares Jared down. "You made the choice to leave. Now you're back. There's more to it than Jensen snapping his fingers, and you jumpin'." 

"You don't understand, Jeff."

"Like hell I don't." Jeff finishes off his drink and stands the beer bottle on the porch. "Who do you think had to put the pieces back together when you up and left? Suddenly, we call, you don't answer, and Jensen's a fucking mess. Took me three goddamn weeks to even get a word outta the guy." 

It's plenty hard to believe the strong and near-stoic Jensen, Alpha of the largest werewolf Pack in the United States, would fall mute just because his boyfriend leaves him. 

""S not like I didn't have plenty of reason to go." 

This, Jeff gets. He saw how hard it was for Jared to come to terms with the Change, and isn't quite sure the kid has yet. Even after all this time, and the moons he lived by himself in Langford, going through it all alone. That's hard for anyone, and near impossible for a brand new werewolf. There's a reason new wolves are never by themselves; the risk of suicide is too great because, without the support of the Pack and the seasoned members, the Change drives most to the brink. The solitude after such a life-altering event tips them over, and they take the plunge into black. Where Jared was before he left, that place... Jeff's more than a little surprised they found him in one piece.

"I got it, really I do, Jare." Jeff sighs, looks away. Scrubs a hand over his eyes in frustration. "Fuck, I'm no good at the feelings talk. I've got Mary for that." He fixes his eyes on Jared again, unflinching. Practically staring him down. "But that don't mean I'm gonna back down offa you. Running away like you did was the lowest road you coulda taken. You could've at least talked to the guy, ya know. Instead, you just turn your back, and slither away without a by your fuckin' leave."

That really pisses Jared off. It's not like Jeff was there; the guy's been Jensen's lap dog from the beginning, and of course, he's going to defend Jensen to the ends of the earth. But he had no part of it, and Jared's not going to be lectured by some third party observer. 

"You really don't have a clue, Jeff," Jared insists. When Jeff opens his mouth to protest that he _does_ know what he's talking about, Jared cuts him off.

"It's different for you. You were born to this. Your mom was a wolf, so was your dad, and all your sisters, too. Your wife is a wolf, and your kids are gonna be wolves. So when you say you understand, you _really_ don't." 

He's got good memories of the two of them, happy times they spent together he wouldn't trade for the world. But sometimes, memories can be tainted and broken. 

It's hard enough finding out your boyfriend is a werewolf. That shit's supposed to only exist on TV and in shitty young adult novels that read more like fan fiction than actual literature. It's not supposed to be real, but to find out it is... That's a whole new problem. 

Then, to top it all off, you realize your fucking werewolf boyfriend has just decided to one day make you like him (because apparently they can do that, even without being invited...or was that just vampires?), without a thought or care to what you might want? That's more than fucked up. 

Suddenly, he's this thing he has no idea how to handle, and the one person he knew he could trust...

That's why he left, why he turned tail, ran and ran and ran until he couldn't run anymore. 

It's crazy how things can be great and wonderful and perfect, then in a split second, everything can got to shit and you're watching the great and perfect life fall through your fingers.

"Then why'd you come back?" Jeff asks again, voice knife-edged. "If this is all so terrible for you, then why'd you even decide to get on a plane?"

Jared can't quite answer him, so he simply stares off across the tops of the trees and drinks the lukewarm beer that he doesn't want anymore.

* * *

The Manor is all abuzz for the _ceili_ in a few hours. Jared's only heard about them from others around him, and whenever they try to explain it, they inevitably fall upon the phrase "It's a Pack thing" and are done with it. The way the air is thick and ripe with anticipation says a lot. The women are running around, borrowing makeup and doing their hair half-hanging out of their door ways. Jared's never seen so many curling irons and mascara wands waving back and forth. He's almost afraid that they're going to fling something in his direction, and he'll get a face full of hairspray or something equally lethal and mysterious. 

Jared chooses a simple black button down and fine jeans, tries to tame his hair into something resembling proper, and heads downstairs to meet the rest of the house. They all climb into some sleek black SUVs, Jared taking up the entire back seat of Jeff and Mary-Louise. Aldis hops in the way back, curled up against the tinted glass so he's almost folded pretzel-style. They turn on the newest LMFAO and thrust their hips in tandem as Mary-Louise giggles and flips them the bird all over the place.

The ride takes a few hours, but it's worth it. Dallas, once you get away from the glitz of the city and the obnoxious neighborhoods trying to compete with Beverly Hills (unsuccessfully), is really quite beautiful. Everything is green and lush, and while the humidity hands off your fingers like dew drops in the morning, it's worth seeing the shimmering pond to the right and the wide field to the left. To top off the visual sundae, the sun drops down over the far hills, casting a bright orange hue across the land. It hurts Jared's eyes to look at it, but he does because it's home, and you don't avert your eyes when you've been gone this long.

They make their way up into the winding hills of a little place called Hanging Lake. It's a five-hour hike to the actual lake, suspended on a cliff side, but that's not their inherent destination. Maybe, in the morning, Jared will take a detour and see something he's never seen. In the meantime, the SUVs bounce over rocks and dirt paths to climb the tilted hills into Hanging Lake and its surrounding forestry. 

Finally, after more than enough sitting in the same car with the same people, the big trucks stop and let everyone out. Sighs of relief hiss out into the air, and people stretch and pop their tired limbs and joints. Jared helps Jeff and a guy named Bram haul the provisions out of Katie's Explorer. 

After everything's all set up, Jared pops open a soda and asks, "When are we gettin' this party started?" 

"Give it time, honey," Samantha smirks into her water. She looks amazing in a tight fitting, slinky blue dress that matches her eyes. Her fantastic blond hair, hair any man (but Jared, because he honestly isn't interested in what the ladies have to offer) would love to wind about his fingers, is tamed and pulled back up on top of her head. Anyone else couldn't pull off the ankle-breaking stilettos strapped up her calves, but she's handling them with grace. Being a werewolf has its perks, Jared supposes, natural grace being one of them.

"We have to wait until Jensen gets here," Alona explains. She cleans up nicely, too, and Jared tells her so. She punches him just hard enough across the arm to not do any damage, but to let him know he needs to keep his compliments to himself. He can do that, no problem. "Can't start a _ceili_ until the Alphas get here."

"Alphas? As in, more than one?" 

"Yeah, you didn't get the memo? How many _ceilis_ you been to, anyhow?" Alona wonders, looking at Jared like he's suddenly spontaneously sprung three extra heads right out of his shoulders.

"None. First one." 

"Oh, that's priceless! A _ceili_ virgin!" She cackles and wanders off to join the rest of her sex, probably to giggle about him behind his back. 

That's okay, he can deal with that. 

Jared doesn't get the chance to ask about it further. Before he can even finish off his drink, the telltale rumble of expensive engines punctuate the relative quiet. Soon, five sleek cars join the parked vehicles in the already-crowded clearing. Seven werewolves (Jared can smell the forest on them) step out and huddle around the vehicles. The last door opens on something resembling a Maserati, and Jared can't help but catch his breath as Jensen unfolds himself from the impossibly low seat. 

If Jared thought Jensen was attractive, tonight he looks downright, dangerously gorgeous. The earthy beauty to him, with his tanned skin and golden freckles and hazel eyes and thick dark blond hair, is plenty jarring, but gussied up in a green button down matching said eyes, brown battered leather jacket, and sleek pants that fit him in all the right places, Jared can't help but encourage the gut-rolling purr of attracting warming him from the inside out. More than a pretty package, Jensen exudes the very essence of power. With the way he holds himself, the way he rolls his shoulders, the way he saunters into the light of the heavy and pregnant full moon above them...he's no longer a man. He's not a wolf either; that will come later. Now, he's an Alpha. The Alpha, and with a howl and cry to the sky, the entire Pack, Jared included, fall to one knee and expose the right side of their necks like the subordinates they are. 

One by one, Jensen wanders amongst them, running his the roughened pad of his index finger across the pulsing point of their throats. It's a blessing and a threat; I'm allowing you to live, it says, but in the same breath, I can tear this throat out and leave you lying here, bleeding and dying. It's a gesture of authority none can match.

He comes to a stop beside Jared, pauses. 

Jensen didn't pause near anyone else, moving through them like a farmer through the fields, confident and so fucking sure that he doesn't even need to look where he's going. But here, next to Jared, he takes his time. He doesn't look down, and Jared's sure he's going to refuse the blessing, shun him before the Pack for what he did. And while Jared likes to think he's naive enough to believe that wouldn't affect him in the slightest (after all, he didn't want this in the first place and would gladly leave it all behind once and for all), being thrust from this new pseudo-community he's incorporated himself into in the past three weeks would hurt. A lot. Near too much. 

But Jensen doesn't withhold the blessing. It seems like an eternity, but he comes through. Instead of the traditional and careful press of finger to skin, Jensen bends and ghosts his warm, full lips across the link of jaw and temple. He scrawls fire across Jared's skin. 

From the way Jeff grins and the surprised looks other Pack members are sending his way, Jared knows this isn't a common occurrence. He wants to ask Jensen what it means, what this all means, but now isn't the time. 

With a parting kiss on the top of his head, Jensen rejoins the other werewolves at the mouth of the clearing. He nods, and gives leave for the Pack to rise. The men and women brush the dusty road dirt from their clothing, smiling so wide in welcome, they might just break their faces. The only sourpuss amongst the bunch is the girl from the Manor named Danneel; she's frowning so hard it's going to stick, and she's aiming the look of poison right towards Jared. Of course, he's more than preoccupied with his own problems and thoughts to pay much attention to what crawled up her ass.

Jared rights himself, the skin where Jensen laid the kiss warm to the touch, more than a little flushed. He runs a tentative finger across it, and can't help but grin. He liked it.

"Welcome, _mac tire_ ," Jensen's husky voice breaks the cacophonous sounds of the nature around them. He spreads his arms wide and speaks the same words all the Alphas before him have spoken. "Tonight is the night of our _ceili_ , where the night welcomes us and the Moon guides us across the face of the Earth. She sparks the fire in our blood, calling us to revel in our true nature. And it is a Call we must answer." 

The Pack remains hushed, with the few exceptions of excited howls from Jeff and Bram, as the tension mounts. Jensen lowers his arms and brings someone forward out of the dark. The new stranger is tall, almost as tall as Jared, with broad shoulders, narrow hips, a thick sweep of reddish brown hair, and a wide mouth that could tempt many to sin with a word or whisper. He's dressed similarly to Jensen with a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and blue jeans that look like they were practically poured on. He's plenty pale, but his bright blue eyes stand out so clear in the dim light. Like Jensen, he smells of power and prestige, clear signs of an Alpha.

"Michael and some members of his Pack from the Northwest have accepted my invitation to join us in our celebration," Jensen explains. "Make them feel welcome, and let them run with us." 

The members of Jensen's Pack welcome Michael, James (a Pack member, though the relationship is probably so much more than that judging by the expressions shooting back and forth as they wade into the welcoming crowd of friendly fellows), Rachel, Daniel, Ralph, and a few others with hearty hellos and fierce pats on the backs powerful enough to level anyone normal. 

When the wolves are mingled, standing shoulder to shoulder with newly discovered brothers and sisters and cousins (for all wolves are kindred brethren), Jensen smiles and nods. 

As people being to undress around him (and Jared isn't too bothered since nudity is pretty much part of the territory), he can't take his eyes off the expanse of Jensen's chest being revealed with each button he slips through the hole. He takes off his own shirt, welcoming the heat flattening across his skin, and can't take his eyes off the man before him. Jensen tosses the shirt to the ground, kicks off his boots and socks, and shoves his pants down. He steps out of them, and having not bothered wearing underwear, stands before the Pack completely naked and absolutely stunning.

Jared almost forgets to shuck his own clothes, he's so caught up in staring. 

Jeff has to poke him in the shoulder, and remind him with pointed eyebrows and some not-so-subtle clearing of his throat. 

Soon, everyone's naked. Some Pack members pair off naturally; Jeff in his burly form cuddles close to his wife whose swollen belly looks oddly beautiful in the moonlight, and Michael and James stand close enough to loosely intertwine their fingers. 

The moon rises high in the sky, luminous and full, gleaming in the sky. 

He can feel it start. It begins slow. Heat spreads full beneath the skin, stretching it and rippling through until that heat retreats deep within him to his belly. He feels like he's being pulled and pushed in all directions. His skin itches and ripples as tiny hairs sprout across his arms, chest, back. Sweat beads down his arms, across his forehead, and collects in the hollow of his throat. 

And suddenly, everything within him breaks loose. Hair shoots out across his skin as he doubles over from the brief bursts of pain that's become so familiar to him lately. He can feel the bones breaking and reforming, his ears tearing and elongating, his face snapping and pulsing to form what will become his snout. As his limbs shorten, he's forced to all fours as his fingers twist into thick paws. Last, his spine wriggles and pulses forth to form his tail. 

He's transformed now, seeing the world through the eyes of his wolf form. Fierce colors light the path as darkness becomes light, as the eyes of his new form take in what only the animal can see. And he can see everything. 

The others are wolves now, fully transformed as he is, and most have their snouts to the ground, sniffing and exploring their new surroundings. Jared, even in his new mindset (for they are always mostly animal in this form, with a thin thread of humanity underneath), brings up his head and intuitively searches for one thing: Jensen.

As the Alphas of the wolves in the clearing, Jensen and Michael are easy to spot. They are not very large wolves (Michael, being a few inches taller than Jensen as a man is thicker in the shoulders and longer in the torso), but they are obviously powerful. Their bodies are sleek and defined, and their fur is darker than most. But what identifies them so clearly as Alphas, the leaders of the Packs, are their scents, their manners, and the fact that, if engaged in combat or challenged for their positions as is the way of the Pack if you wish to advance, they wouldn't give a second thought to taking their challenger down. For good. 

The wolves gather, panting from the Change, together before their Alphas, waiting for instructions. The two Alphas saunter between the members of their Packs, sniffing and reacquainting themselves with the scents of the others. The leaders rub against the wolves, marking them as theirs, a tradition Jeff explained on the ride up here. Jared has run with the Pack before on the full moon, through the forests at Black Tree. They've hunted together, bringing down the few deer that live on the property and the surrounding areas. But this is more ceremony, this is more serious. 

On the way up here, after plenty of hip thrusts and laughter, Jeff explained the concept of a _ceili_. It's a gathering. It's a renewal of Pack bonds; the wolves together run, hunt, and become one once again. Whether you're a new member like Jared and Samantha, or an old, familiar face like Jeff and Mary-Louise, this is a chance for the wolves to merge once again and become one family, one unit. One Pack. 

Everyone seems to know it. They welcome the Alphas amidst their ranks, and thrust their snouts into the fur. It's a comfort to have your Alpha near you. They represent more than just Pack leadership; they are comfort. Their jobs are to protect the Pack, provide for them, and in turn, the Pack does the same.

Jensen, resplendent in a burnished gold coat, acknowledges each and every one of his Pack members, watching Michael move amongst his. Jared sees him run his mouth across Jeff's neck, Mary-Louise's, others. 

He saves Jared for last. The energy drums through the clearing, and dances across his skin. He wants to howl, rejoice that he's one with the Pack again (though he's never been one with the Pack, really and truly; always on the outside, looking in through the glass of their family) as the Alpha comes closer. When Jensen draws near, Jared stills and lets the Alpha take charge. 

Jensen does. He crowds close. He smells like evergreen and fresh pine, like the familiar scent of Pack. Before Jared can even think of moving, Jensen is upon him with his jaw and teeth thrust into Jared's neck. If he shifted, even a slight inch, Jensen can tear him apart. But he doesn't. Instead, he nips along the jaw, across the point where the blood beats fastest, the ear. Just a sharp nip of teeth, and the Alpha pulls away. Heads towards the mouth of the clearing that leads into the forest and beyond, away from the camp. 

Michael follows behind in a trot, and suddenly, they're off.

No communication necessary; the Pack knows what to do. Following behind their Alphas, the wolves take off and crash across the grounds into the forest. Jared gets caught amidst the wriggling bodies, near-crushed between two others, and ends up towards the back. 

_Runningrunningrunningpantingrunning_ the beats of the wolves before and behind him vibrate up his legs and urge him on, further and faster. The air streams through his fur, forces his eyes open, chills his open mouth. He can hear the rest panting and he pushes onwards. Towards the front, towards Jensen. 

It's one thing to join in on a run. He's done it plenty of times. But the level of energy bursting up and around them now rolls over like a wave none can stop. Nor would they want to. This force links them all together, makes them what they are. They embrace it, always and forever. 

The Pack thins out, breaking into groups, going their separate ways. Some go to hunt, some go to explore, and some spread out elsewhere until they're gone from Jared's line of sight. Not that he's paying attention to them; he's got his eyes on Jensen and won't let him go.

Jared follows the Alpha to another clearing, but when Jared passes the tree line, he can't see Jensen any longer. Jared stops, claws digging into the frigid ground, and whines his despair. He's been following him this entire time only to lose him now? 

Suddenly, a huge weight crashes into him from behind, and Jared is thrown across the clearing until he skids to a stop against the thick trunk of a tree. Before he can regroup and attack this new threat, a familiar face fills his vision, and Jensen is upon him. His teeth are bared blades and his eyes are fire.

But, in the blink of an eye, it's Jensen. Not Alpha Jensen, or wolf Jensen. Just Jensen in his man-form, eyes blazing and breath coming in short bursts through those perfect lips. 

"Change back. Now." 

Jared's heart thunders within his chest. 

"Change back, now. I want to fuck you, and I'm not having you as a wolf. Don't make me make you."

And Jared releases the hold he's held on his wolf form, giving it that little push so it slithers like a second skin back within him. Everything happens so fluidly that Jared has to wonder whether Jensen exerts a little Alpha magic touch. He barely feels the pain at all, and it's all over in an instant. 

Then Jensen is on him, fingers clenching his upper arm and lips bruising his. 

It's all he knows or wants to know.

It hurts. Like everything with Jensen these days, this hurts, but Jared doesn’t stop. He moves closer, lets him into his personal space, further than personal space as Jensen rips apart Jared’s mouth with his tongue. It’s a surrender, ground he’s happy to give.

They part, breath hot and white upon the air. Foreheads meet. Jared may be taller, broader, but Jensen’s got the power, the sway, and Jared’s more than willing to hand it over. 

“Turn around.”

* * *

It's fast, dirty, and over in a matter of minutes. Jensen turns him round, bends him over, and thrusts inside with just spit and precome as the barrier between flesh and flesh. It's hard and deep, quick. Jensen snaps forward with his hips, Jared pushes back with his, trying to push more and more inside. He wants to be full, to have all and more inside him. 

Jensen obliges. 

A second later, with an arm wrapped around his waist and a hand around his dick, Jared comes so hard he sees stars, and riding the quivers of his body, Jensen follows soon after, emptying himself until he's dry.

* * *

They collapse against each other and sink down. Nights in Dallas, especially around this time of year, are cold compared to the stifling humidity of the day, but neither man can muster enough energy to care. Jared falls to his back, eyes blinking at the stars above him as he struggles to catch his breath. The _ceili_ was invigorating enough, but to then come together like that would exhaust even the most outlasting marathoner. Jensen bends next to him, stretched out, with a mask of satisfaction firmly rooted in his features. He splays across the ground, chest panting, and barely notices when the back of his hand comes in contact with Jared's.

But Jared notices. Fucking is one thing; you can chalk that up to lust and pleasure and the baser human (or werewolf) instincts. But a casual touch like this, accidental though it may be, can mean a hundred different other things at the same time. A flare of heat springs up between the two hands, and Jared decides he likes it. Likes what it could mean, likes the intimacy of it, and likes the idea that touching the backs of their hands together might be a gateway gesture into something more substantial...like holding hands?

When he lived in Dallas before with Jensen at the Manor, they used to hold hands. Curled up on the couch, Jensen would grab Jared's palm in his. He'd trace the lines up and down it, scrawling an invisible message only they could read. He'd hold his hand underneath the table at breakfast until the others growled at them to break it up. Jensen would grab for Jared's hand, something to hold onto, as he thrust up and into him over and over and over again. And they'd hold hands during sleep, as if Jared were Jensen's lifeline in the nightmare dreamscape, his hook into reality. Holding hands means a hundred different things, and Jared has learned them all with Jensen. Wants to keep going, learning them, memorizing them.

"We should get going," Jensen tells him, shifting away. His hand leaves a cold patch against the back of Jared's, and Jared misses it dearly. "It'll be dawn soon, and the others will come looking for us. I don't know 'bout you, but I sure as hell don't like starting off my mornings with Mary-Louise yelling at me."

"She's pretty fuckin' scary when she wants to be," Jared mutters, and rises from his place on the cool grass. He brushes any dirt off himself (though he's sure he's covered), and turns to follow Jensen back to the clearing. 

A brief silence spreads between them as they walk, careful not to offend the other. Jared hasn't seen Jensen in three weeks, and he's just had him inside him. Even though they've repaired _that_ part of the relationship (really, though, sex was never their problem; they were good at it, and probably always will be), they're still hanging on tender hooks with each other, waiting to see what the other has to say before jumping in. 

When it becomes a little too much for him, Jared decides to speak up. He runs a hand through his hair (shakes out the leaves and blades of grass) and glances over at Jensen staring straight ahead.

"So, tomorrow..."

Jensen doesn't look at him, but his eyebrows rise further up his forehead, and he's interested in what's going to happen next. 

"Tomorrow? You got something special planned?"

Jared nods, swallows, suddenly nervous as fuck. "Do you think you could spare me one of the cars tomorrow morning? I'm going to ask Aldis to take me to the airport."

It takes a few steps for Jared to realize Jensen's stopped moving next to him, and when he turns back, Jensen is simply staring. He looks a lot confused, more than a little pissed, but he's trying to school it all into unbelievable calm. It's not working very well.

"You're going back." It's not a question.

"Yeah. I booked a ticket last week. I'm on the 10:30 to O'Hare." 

"You're leaving." Again, not a question.

Jared shrugs. "Yep. Been here three weeks, nothing's really changed, and my job isn't waiting for me forever. It's time to head back before I'm unemployed and inevitably homeless." 

"I don't think you gave it a chance." 

Jared looks hard at Jensen and tries to keep his voice neutral, because it’s no use yelling in the middle of the forest.

“I came all the way back here, Jensen, and what do I get? You aren’t ever here.” 

“Just because I have company doesn’t mean I give up my duties as Pack leader. There are still things that need to be done.”

Jared shakes his head and says,” I’m not asking you to give up anything. But a little acknowledgement would be really great.” 

Jensen laughs and throws a thumb over his shoulder. “I think that back there was acknowledgement, and plenty of it.” Jared has to roll his eyes, grin a little stupid because that was pretty fucking spectacular. If it didn’t do anything much, it _did_ prove Jensen hadn’t completely forgotten about him.

“You know what I mean.”

Jensen stops joking, nods. “I do. And I do want you here.”

“Then why not take me with you? Or stay here? Or, you know, just tell me what’s going on.”

“I didn’t think you’d understand,” Jensen admits. He looks away, squints his eyes as he takes in the glow of the setting moon and lightening sky. “You’ve never been exactly okay with this whole werewolf thing. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

For some strange reason he can’t pinpoint, that makes Jared laugh so damn hard. He doesn’t break out into laughter because it’s funny or ironic. He does it because if he didn’t laugh, he’d tear Jensen’s fucking head right off his shoulders. The fucking nerve this guy has is unbelievable.

“I’m not okay? We’ve been over this and over this, Jen. Of course, I’m not okay.” His voice goes hard and angry, spoiling for a fight. “I had no choice in the matter, after all.

“You had no choice. Neither did I, Jared,” Jensen fights right back. His jovial expression, slackened with the endorphins from sex and the brief window of peace they’d wrenched open between them, switches with the snap of the finger to the fiercely protective expression of a man defending his actions, and most of all, himself. He smiles, but it’s not warm. “I was born this way. This is who I am, who I’ve been my entire life.” 

“I’m not taking that away from you, Jensen,” Jared tells him. “But I wasn’t. This isn’t me. But, of course, that didn’t stop you.” He can’t help the hurt bleeding into his voice, the resentment and everything in between.

“What’re you trying to say?” Jensen’s eyes turn molten gold, harsh and frightening in the slackening light. 

“I’m saying…” This is it. This is the window he’s been waiting for, the opening to really get everything he’s been holding onto off his chest for good. He’s just going to go for it. Jared straightens, looks Jensen dead in the eye, and says, “I’m saying you did this to me –bit me- just because you could. Because you were afraid of losing me, and this was your way of keeping me here with you.”

There. He said it. And while he expected some kind of relief from saying it aloud, and to Jensen of all people, he doesn’t expect the wave of apologetic regret hitting him where it hurts. He instantly wishes he could take it back, but what’s done is done.

Jensen stills in every way possible. He doesn’t look away; he’s staring straight at Jared, green eyes dead set on brown ones, and his jaw is clenched shut. When he does move, he balls his hands into fists and Jared has to look closely to see them quiver in unexpressed anger.

“You asshole,” he whispers. Jared almost doesn’t hear it. “You’re such a self-important dick, it actually surprises me.” 

Jared wants to take it back. Wants to reach into the past ten seconds, pluck out his words, and go back to being drunk on sex. Wishes he hadn’t said anything because he can’t take the betrayed look blossoming on Jensen’s face. It creases his forehead, narrows the eyes, and sets his impressive mouth in a hard, unyielding line. 

“Jensen, I…”

“You want to know why I bit you?” Jensen asks, as if he didn’t know the answer. Jared wants to shout, _Yes! Yes, finally! Just fucking tell me already!_

“I’ve loved you a long time, Jared,” Jensen admits. He’s told Jared this before, whispered sweet sentiments after sex, before bed, in the early morning when neither of them can dredge up enough energy to remember their own names. It’s been awhile, though, since Jared’s believed him. “I loved - _love_ \- you, and I wanted to…take the next step so to speak.” He’s still angry, but the realization that Jared really doesn’t understand his motives has him calming down enough to talk. 

“That’s why some people buy wedding rings, Jensen, or go on vacation together or something. They don’t turn their lovers into werewolves, for fuck’s sake.” 

Jensen shakes his head. “You don’t understand.” 

Jared crosses his arms over his chest, ignoring how ridiculous he feels because they’re still naked, still standing in the middle of a forest after having just had sex, and they’re having this talk here and now. Well, they were never very conventional, were they?

“Explain it to me,” Jared tells him, orders him, because he’s dead tired of beating around the bush and making assumptions on nothing but his own ideas and misconceptions. It’s taken a long time, a lot of hurt, to realize this.

“This is it for me,” Jensen tells him. “This is my life and I was in love with you. So, I bit you and made you one of us because that’s the only way we could have been together.” 

That kind of pisses Jared off. “That’s bullshit, Jen.” 

Jensen shakes his head _no_. “Werewolves mate for life, Jared. Alphas, especially, need someone by their side. They’re seen as weak if they don’t have a mate. I can’t be weak.” 

“And you just decided to make the decision for me?” 

“If I had asked you to make the Change with me, would you have said yes? Hell, would you have even listened, or would you have made a beeline for the door as soon as possible?” Jensen asks, eyes so accusing, Jared feels like they’re taking him apart from the inside out. “Probably would have called me crazy and left right off the bat.”

“That’s not fair,” Jared petulantly protests. It’s no good, though. He knows Jensen’s right; all those months ago, he never would have believed such a thing could have existed. Now, he barely does, and he’s a part of the fucking thing.

“Nope, but it’s the truth,” Jensen flippantly assures him. “You would have turned tail and ran if I even hinted at something like this. Anybody would have, it’s not your fault. So it was either give you up completely, something I could never do. Or Change you and have you with me. Not the easiest choice, and both outcomes would have hurt us one way or another.” 

“You still lost me, Jen.” 

Jensen huffs, looking away for the first time since beginning this vein of conversation. 

“I know.” He scrubs a hand over his face, and when he looks back, his eyes are flooded with something like sadness. “It wasn’t fair how things went down. But you’ve got to see it from my point of view. This is it for me. This is how my kind have done things for generations. If you aren’t one of us, we can’t be together. Not being with you wasn’t an option, so I opted for Plan B.” 

Jared expected something completely different from Jensen, to be honest. He expected raging and protests and cursing, not this quiet acceptance, this admittance of wrongdoing. He has to admit it calmed some fire in his belly, all the pent up heat and rage quieting to a simmer instead of a roaring boil.

“You know, you could have told me all this before I left,” Jared informs him, trying hard not to smile. He’s difficult to do, when things are kind of looking up. 

“I didn’t think you were in the mood for listening,” Jensen admits. “You seemed more scared out of your fucking mind, than willing to entertain a logical debate on werewolf society and quite possibly a PowerPoint presentation on why all this was actually a _good_ thing.” He smiles, sad and brief, but it’s there. “And you hurt me, too, you know. You’re not the only one that lost something.” 

He hadn’t thought about it like that. Jensen’s right; Jared was so freaked out, he wouldn’t have listened to reason even if it had punched him in the face, square on. But up till now, he hadn’t even considered Jensen’s feelings on the matter. While Jared was looking for an apartment in Langford, Jensen was hurting here after having just lost someone he loved, after being _left_ behind. 

And Jared does love him back. That’s always been the truth, no matter where he was or what he felt towards the other man. Jared has always, and will probably always, love Jensen just like Jensen will always love Jared. It’s all very sensitive and caring, but being a man prohibits Jared from talking about his feelings overmuch. Being proud doesn’t help either. 

Here in this clearing, pride doesn’t matter much. They’re both buck-ass naked, so they don’t have much of anything to hide behind. They’re talking now. Not like they did before during those late nights back in Jared’s apartment in Langford, but really talking. Actually _saying_ something, and it’s slowly lightening the load on their shoulders to hear the other side. 

Back in Langford, they talked about how things have changed, how Jared’s getting along in his life and Jensen in his. They talked about their families and things that still interested them; they got to know the people they’d become since parting. Now, they’re finally hashing out the reason behind the split, and Jared can feel the rift between them start to knit itself shut. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Jensen,” Jared tells him, voice soft. He’s been hurting all this time, even ran away to lick his wounds, but it never occurred to him how much damage and devastation he left in his wake. He never wanted to hurt Jensen. Well, maybe ~~a little~~ a lot after he left, but not now. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry I made you a werewolf without letting you make the decision yourself,” Jensen retorts. 

Jared has to laugh at that. “Award for weirdest apology goes to Jensen Ackles.” 

“I _am_ sorry, though,” Jensen insists seconds later. “You didn’t deserve how things went down. I should have done so much more.” 

Jared shrugs it off. “It’s okay. Honestly, I’m okay with it now. Now, don’t put me down for the Pack’s softball team, but being a werewolf isn’t so bad. I mean, turning into a freaking wolf a few times a month? That’s pretty cool.” 

“I’m glad you see it like that.” 

Jared playfully pushes against him and chuckles, breath bursting white in the dark. He smiles and catches Jensen’s hand in his. He holds onto it loosely and runs the pad of his thumb over the knuckles. 

The other man’s breath catches in his throat. With a glance at the moon and a wicked smile breaking out, Jensen suggests, “You know, we still have a few hours before we’re expected back.”

* * *

This time, when they come together, it’s sweeter. 

Jared’s on his back with his knees crooked and his legs spread. His dick’s hard in his hand as he softly, slowly strokes himself. Jensen’s kneeled before him, eyes dark and pupils blown, fingers grazing his own dick with patience. 

“C’mon, baby,” he whispers, and Jensen jerks forward, so eager and earnest. Jared’s still loose from before, but this time, Jensen’s taken more care than a few strokes of precome and some spit in his palm. This time, he’s coated himself with his own precome, and after having Jared lave his palm with his wet tongue, he’s ready. Before, the coupling was so quick, Jared barely had time to appreciate the familiar feel of Jensen inside him. Now, he can feel each and every inch slowly filling him to the brim. It’s just this side of being too much, but Jared likes it, likes being able to feel it all. 

They kiss, chaste and clean, as Jensen pulls back and slips forward, finding a careful and slow rhythm that leaves Jared wanting more _now_. There’s a hand in his hair, and his head is pulled back to expose the dark tan of his throat. Jensen bites along the ridge of his esophagus, hips urging forward. His other hand goes straight to Jared’s cock, keeping just the right amount of pressure to make Jared whimper like a fucking virgin. 

It lasts longer than their earlier encounter, but it doesn’t last long enough. Jared wants to feel Jensen in him for hours, days, but when his thrusts become erratic and quick, he knows his lover isn’t going to last. He wraps his legs around Jensen’s hips, urges him forward, deeper, and growls when he feels Jensen pulse hot. Jensen whines, low in his chest, and screws his eyes shut, drawing every precious second out of this. Jared isn’t far behind, and the sight of Jensen’s face more than anything gives him that last burst of pleasure. He follows soon after, spilling across his stomach and chest.

* * *

Jared rides back with Jensen in the early hours of the morning. 

When they reach the House, Jared goes to his room, packs his things, and carries them across the house to Jensen’s bedroom. He doesn’t ask Jensen, and Jensen doesn’t protest.

He _does_ smile and goes to put on a pot of coffee.

* * *

Four months later finds them back in Illinois. 

Jared rents a car at O’Hare and spends the better part of the morning just touring the winding, tree lined hills of the countryside. Jensen falls asleep in the front seat, lulled by the constant hum of the engine beneath them and the quiet rock Jared plays low on the car speakers. Jared’s okay with that; let him sleep. Jared can just as easily take care of this without him.

They pull into Langford a few hours after landing. It’s exactly the same as he left it. He passes the apartment building he made his home, reminding himself to drop off his key to the landlady. He’s already packed and shipped his things to Dallas, and that’s the final loose end to tie up there. 

But first, Jared heads three streets over to the tiny storefront of Misha’s shop. 

The sheer curtains are drawn to block out most of the noonday sun and the sign on the door reads “Come On In, We’re Open!” Jared almost misses the smaller sign in the lower corner of the window: “NOW HIRING – Retards and Fuckwits Need Not Apply.” Jared throws his head back in a laugh, and heads inside.

It looks, feels, and smells the same. Jared is going to miss this, no doubt. 

From some inconspicuous back corner of the shop comes Misha’s gravelly voice, so easy with snark and sarcasm, “I’m coming. Don’t steal anything!”

“Not much worth stealing,” Jared calls back. 

Misha pokes his head out from behind a tall stack of books that looks like they’ve seen a lot of better days and grins big. 

“When did you get back, Jared?” 

The smaller man drops a cleaning cloth from his hands and reaches out to offer the bigger man a hug. It’s brief, but Jared doesn’t mind giving into one of Misha’s stranger traits. As he put it when Jared first applied, “I’m a hugger. Get over it, or get out.” Jared got over it, and even learned to accept the weirdly timed displays of affection. 

“This morning. Just finishing up some stuff here, and I’m back on a plane tomorrow.” 

“Do you know I have to train someone new now? Such a pain in the ass,” Misha mutters. 

“Nut up or shut up,” Jared grunts, remembering Genevieve’s favorite phrase. Speaking of his old friend, he makes a mental note to get the band back together for drinks late that night.

“Easy for you to say. You’re giant. You probably have some amazing balls on you,” Misha huffs. 

“Um…thanks?” 

“You’re welcome. Now, I s’pose you’re here for your check.” Misha looks at him like he didn’t just compliment Jared’s testicles, and instead of pushing the issue, Jared simply nods affirmatively. The smaller man reaches behind the counter and retrieves a dusty, yellow envelope. “Careful with this. I may or may not have –I did- spilled tea on it.” 

Jared rolls his eyes. 

Misha casts a glance out the front window and notes Jensen snoozing in the car, face pressed up against the glass like a kid. He’s probably drooling; Jared doesn’t relish explaining any marks to the rental guys when he returns the car. 

“You and what’s-his-name back together?” 

“His name is Jensen, and yes, we are,” Jared replies. He can’t help but grin happily, and a little stupidly. 

“You happy, man?” 

Jared has to think a little on that. When he came to Langford, he was pretty much on the opposite end of the spectrum from happy. Happy would never come close to what he was feeling when he moved here, when he met Misha, when he began his new life. Slowly, he carved out a little satisfaction and contentment for himself. But never happiness. Now, he’s got Jensen back, and he’s starting over again (again). Any other time in his life, Misha’s question would have been the hardest to answer. Now, not so much.

“Yeah, I think I am.”

Misha nods, blue eyes dancing. “That’s good, Jared.” He pauses like he’s thinking. “And he knows you’re a werewolf right?” 

Out of all the things that could have come out of the man’s mouth at that particular moment (and there were _a lot_ of things that could have come out of the man’s mouth at that particular moment), that was pretty much the mother of all unexpected comments. Jared stops moving. He’s pretty sure he could catch flies in his open mouth, but he’s too shocked to care.

“Uh…what?”

“I asked if he knew you were a werewolf. It’s better to be honest about that kind of stuff, Jared. Don’t keep it bottled inside.” 

He’s too dumbfounded to even deny it. He just has to ask, “How…how did you _know_?” 

Misha rolls his eyes. “I’m not _stupid_ , Jared. You can’t work for a few days surrounding the full moon. You always get agitated and edgy around that time of the month. You eat your steaks raw. I mean, unless you’re starting to menstruate, I’m pretty sure being a werewolf was the only other alternative.” 

“But _how did you know_?” 

The shorter man gestures around him. “I work in a bookstore that doesn’t make a lot of money. Reading is pretty much all I do, and there are a surprisingly unhealthy amount of teen fiction about werewolves out there.” Misha holds up his hands in a calming gesture. “Don’t worry, I don’t judge.” 

“Um…” Jared swallows. “Thanks?” 

“But, really, Jared. You should tell him. If you’re in love with him –which I assume you are- he deserves to know the truth.” Misha comes close, taps Jared on the chest. “Don’t keep it inside, man. It’ll _fester_.” 

Jared swallows around the suddenly very large lump in his throat, and nods. “Got it. Tell Jensen I’m a werewolf. Any other advice?” 

“You two got condoms?” 

Twenty minutes later, Jared exits the bookstore with his check in hand, looking like someone just hit him with a truck. Misha’s standing at the door, waving excitedly like a puppy might jump at the noise of its master arriving home, and Jared waves before starting the engine and pulling away. 

From his place in the front seat, Jensen grumbles, “You were in there a long time. Everything okay?”

Jared will tell him about it later, but for now, he just wants to drive and enjoy the moment, Misha Collins aside. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. You still tired?”

Jensen sits up, rubbing at his eyes. “I’ll probably take a nap back at the motel. Whatever. Where we headed now?”

Jared turns to look at him. “Wherever you want to go. I’m easy.” 

The older man laughs. “Probably not the best choice of words, Jare.” 

“True. But really, I don’t care. What do you want to do?” 

Jensen’s quiet for a second, and then says, “Don’t know yet. Just keep driving. We’ll figure it out.” 

Jared nods, shifts the car into gear, and heads out of town towards the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for siiy@LJ for the Somalia Famine Crisis Fundraiser at fandomaid@LJ.


End file.
